


Cut My Chest Wide Open and Take What You Need

by taberune



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Jasico - Freeform, Jason Grace - Freeform, Jason/Nico - Freeform, M/M, Multi Chapter, Nico di Angelo - Freeform, Slow Build, Tartarus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5356529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taberune/pseuds/taberune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Nico’s the son of the God of the Underworld, and sons of Hades just aren’t allowed to be happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Fall To Our Impending Doom

Nico di Angelo is a king, and you would think that a king would have the respect and admiration and love from everyone from east to west. But Nico di Angelo’s a _ghost_ king, and when your kingdom is made of corpses and skeletons and things that should have been laid to rest, you don’t really get respect and admiration and love from anyone. Even if you helped save the world and really did deserve it.   

Nico di Angelo’s familiar with the feeling of being unwanted, with the feeling of being an outcast, and he’s used to it, really he is. It wasn’t always like this. Once upon a time, he had a sister and a mother and people who loved him dearly, but that was a very long time ago, and everything he knew had changed, and he wasn’t sure if he liked this new life, even though it was filled with mystical creatures and magical things and it should be something every kid should like.  

So, Nico’s on a quest — well, he’s part of a quest, but he’s not really. On the Argo, with all those heroes ( _real_ heroes, with gleaming eyes, and pure hearts, and whatever else heroes have) he feels like he doesn’t belong. He pretends he doesn’t care about the looks Percy and Annabeth exchange when he speaks, or the stares Leo and Jason give him when they cross paths, but really, deep, deep down it hurts (probably).

He’s not there to make friends, he’s there to help save the world once more, and then he’ll be gone from their perfect lives and everyone will be happy. Except him, of course, because sons of Hades just don’t deserve to be happy. Sons of Hades deserve hatred and dirty looks and all those other things nobody should deserve. But, Nico thinks, son of Hades or not, he _really_ doesn’t deserve to be thrown in Tartarus all over again, and with nobody other than golden boy, perfect hero Jason Grace. 

Nico’s falling, falling, falling, and he can’t scream or shout or move, because all he can think is: It’s happening again. He had barely gotten out last time — and when he did, he was skin and bones and filled with nightmares — and now it was happening again. And he was falling, falling falling.

And Nico wishes he’d never been rescued from that jar. And Nico wishes that he had never joined this quest. And Nico wishes that he hadn’t been put into the Lotus Hotel, and he wishes that he never met Percy Jackson, and he wishes he was back in his old life when he was young and he had Bianca by his side, alive and well. 

Nico wishes a lot of things, but wishes are dreams, and dreams just don’t come true for sons of Hades. So Nico lets himself fall, and Nico stops wishing. 

 

* * *

 

When the black stops being quite so black, Nico sees Tartarus. Nico sees Tartarus and its towering peaks, and jutted cliffs, and cracked floors, and Nico swears he would rather die than be here again. 

Then, there’s screaming by Nico’s side, and he’s suddenly very aware that he’s not alone, and he remembers that he wasn’t the only one that fell into the literal pits of hell. Jason Grace is by his side, and he’s screaming his pretty little head off, hands waving and flapping in the air as he plummets towards the ground. Nico wonders if he should just let them fall, but his conscience (yes, he does have one) gets the better of him, and he does a weird half-swim, half-crawl through the air to reach Jason, and wrap his hand around his bicep.

Jason stops screaming to stare at Nico instead, and Nico almost draws his hand back because there’s fear and accusation and hatred and confusion mixed into a storm in his heavenly blue eyes. But Nico grips Jason’s arm tighter, and swings his other hand to Jason’s other bicep, untilthey’re free falling in a spinning circle. 

“Fly,” Nico croaks, and he’s surprised that he managed to say anything at all. His throat feels dry and tight, as if he’s swallowed a whole desert (or a whole Tartarus).

“What?” Jason shouts, voice muffled around roaring air.

“Fly! You can fly can’t you?” Nico says again, and this time his voice comes in a desperate shriek.

A sudden look ripples over Jason’s face, and he seems to realise that he, son of Zeus, can fly after all. Jason squeezes his eyes shut and his brows furrow in concentration, and he jerks his arms so that instead of Nico holding his biceps, his arms are wrapped around Nico, and they’re slowing down, ever so slightly.

They’re falling too fast for them to stop, but Jason tries. Jason tries and they slow down, but when they land, they still land with a crash, and Nico is thrown apart from Jason and is thrown right into rock. 

There’s no air in his lungs, and Nico is left gasping like a fish out of water for a few moments before he regains his composure and is able to sit up with a groan. Jason follows suit, though he seems tired from flight and there’s a cut on his cheek from where he had skidded over a sharp pebble. 

Jason walks over to Nico, and bends over, offering him a hand, and for a second, Nico is tempted to take it, and let someone help him for once. But the second passes and Nico remembers who he is, and he brushes Jason’s hand aside and pushes himself to his feet, staggering. 

Nico ignores the sinking feeling of despair as he takes in their surroundings, and manages to gasp out instead, “We have to move.”

Jason opens his mouth to say something, but he must see the look of desperation in Nico’s eyes, the look that says: “Please, just listen to me”, and Jason just nods and begins to follow as Nico begins to walk. Nico’s hand is warily by the hilt of his sword, and Jason really hopes that Stygian Iron wards away monsters rather than attract them.

Nico’s shoulders are tight and he’s straining every muscle in his body, just ready to leap out if something comes their way, because he knows this is Tartarus, and it’s only a matter of time. Nico wonders what Percy would do in the situation, and there’s a dull pain in his chest that he ignores, and he decides that Percy, being Percy Jackson, would be very upbeat and positive and very heroic, and Nico wants to cry or scream or do _something_ because he knows he can’t be upbeat and positive and heroic. Nico wonders what would happen if, instead of Jason, Percy was the one who’d fallen into Tartarus with him instead, and there’s another aching sensation in his chest. If Percy was there — no, Percy wasn’t there. And if he was, well, Nico had burned all his bridges long ago, and Percy had long since decided to keep Nico at arm’s length rather than embrace him and trust him. 

For some reason, the thought makes him tired, and his limbs feel heavy. He could be Atlas, his burden and the hatred directed towards him his metaphorical sky, but Nico’s used to it. He’s very used to it, he tells himself. 

There’s a gasp behind him and Nico whirls around, pulling his sword from its scabbard in a fluid motion and leaping into a stance. Jason looks surprised and Nico realises that he was only yawning, and for a second, Nico can feel a blush working towards his cheeks, and he fights to suppress it. 

“Be on guard,” Nico snaps, perhaps more sharply than he’d hoped to.

Jason looks taken aback, and nods instead of replying, but there’s a frown on his face that tugs on the scar on his lip and as Nico turns back around, he wonders how much Jason Grace hates him. 

And for the millionth time that day, Nico wishes he were anywhere but Tartarus.


	2. Jason Grace Has a Terrible Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason begins to wonder if the Son of Hades is more than shadows and gloomy expressions.

You could say that Jason Grace was having somewhat of a bad day. Or a really bad day. Or a horrible day. Many people could say they’ve had awful days, but how many people can say that they’ve had a thrown-into-the-fiery-pits-of-Tartarus bad day? Jason Grace thinks he can probably count those people on one hand. Maybe even half a hand. 

Somehow, almost getting killed by monsters just wasn’t enough, and the world just decided that they should take a joy-filled road trip to hell. Jason Grace thinks that Tartarus is bad enough, but to make matters worse, he’s fallen into Tartarus with Nico di Angelo, and Jason Grace really isn’t sure what to think about that. 

Despite Hazel’s constant protests that Nico was just misunderstood, Jason couldn’t bring himself to fully trust the gloomy-faced kid who always seemed to bring shadows where he went. Stories he’s heard from Percy and Annabeth, of Nico controlling spirits and ghosts, of him living underground, of him betraying Percy has left Jason wary of the Ghost King, and still, as Jason studies how Nico’s knuckles have turned white from gripping the hilt of his sword, and how he’s gnawing on his lip, eyebrows drawn tight, Jason can’t help but think that in this moment, Nico just looks like a child, weak, and scared, and tired. 

Jason’s tired, there’s an ache in his arm and his head and everywhere in his body. He’s tired, but he’s sure Nico is too, and Nico isn’t complaining, though he’s the one who knows the horrors of Tartarus and have to face them again. 

Nico stops abruptly and Jason walks right into him before he can plant his feet and stop himself. Nico’s arm darts out and steadies him, but before Jason can murmur his thanks, Nico’s finger is by his lips, and his eyes are large. Jason understands his signals immediately and he tries to silence the warning bells that are going off (very loudly) in his head. But he knows that those bells are going off for a reason, and if he just waits —

There’s a roar and Jason leaps back, Nico doing the same simultaneously. There’s his reason. Giant angry-looking minotaur. Jason barely thinks as he leaps into action, and as he moves in one direction, Nico moves in the other. Jason swings as hard as he can with his gladius, and prays that Juno will still bless him in Tartarus. His sword lands where he aims it, in the calf of the minotaur, who howls and stumbles. Nico takes this chance to stab the minotaur in the chest, and the monster erupts into a cloud of ash. 

Jason coughs slightly (he hopes the ash of dead minotaurs won’t stay lodged in his lungs forever), and says, without really thinking, “That thing was at least ten centimetres taller than me.”

Jason’s happy to see that his comment brings a twitch of a smile to Nico’s face. “Well, you’re not wrong,” Nico says drily, and Jason is almost tempted to laugh. But Nico’s expression turns sombre again, and Jason remembers what kind of situation they’re really in.

“We have to keep moving, it’ll be back soon. They’re born here, so they won’t stay away long,” Nico says, avoiding Jason’s gaze. The short, humorous moment they’d exchanged was gone and Jason wonders if Nico was actually a lighthearted, joking person, if not for everything he’d been through, and he wonders if he’s been extremely wrong about Nico this whole time.

As Jason walks, he thinks of everything he knows about the son of Hades, and realises he doesn’t know much at all. Everything he knows is what he’s heard from others, and it’s probably about time he learns about the son of Hades from the son of Hades. Jason opens his mouth, to strike up conversation, to say something, anything, but, for once in his life, his words fail him completely. So Jason decides he doesn’t need words after all, and instead, he studies the way Nico walks, cautious, tentative steps, light and nimble; he studies the way Nico’s slender fingers wrap around the hilt of his sword, long and dark and dangerous; he studies the way Nico seems to shrink in on himself, to take up as little space as he possibly can, and Jason’s heart suddenly aches (he prides himself on being a nice person, so how could he have missed all the warning signs Nico had been giving?)

“Nico —”

“Don’t.” Nico doesn’t stop walking, and Jason’s surprised by the tone of his voice. “I can hear the pity in your voice, and I don’t need it. You heroes, with golden blood of gods running through your veins think you can run into my life and give me something to depend on, a bright future, whatever promises — lies — you can give, and then you take what I have and leave me with nothing, and think you can shower me with _pity_?” Nico spits the word out like it’s vile, and Jason gets the feeling that Nico’s not really talking about him anymore. “I don’t need it,” Nico continues. “I don’t need your sympathy, your pity, or whatever words you want to give me to make yourself feel better.”

There’s a heavy silence that ensues, thicker, almost, than the languid air of Tartarus. Then, Jason swallows. “You’re one, too, right?”

Nico glances over his shoulder quickly, before facing forwards again, and walking just a little bit faster. “What?”

“You’re one, too. A hero, with the golden blood of a god running through your veins.”

Nico stops, and Jason almost runs into him. Nico barks out a short, guttural laugh, that’s grating and sharp in the air. “But I’m not, am I? I’m a monster, with the blood of a monster running through me. I’m not a hero — I’m a villain, through and through.”

Jason realises that Nico believes that his words are true, and in the same moment, he sees that Nico believes it, because everyone else around him believes it too, to a certain extent. Jason regrets that he didn’t listen t0 Hazel to trust him, because maybe, at the end of the day, the Son of Hades just needed someone to confide in. “That’s not — ”

“Save it, Grace,” Nico says, but he just sounds tired. “I don’t need any of it.”

And Jason thinks Nico isn’t only referring to his pity. 

 

 


	3. Nico di Angelo and the Tell Tale Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico doesn't know what to feel about Jason Grace and being in the literal depths of hell doesn't help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title is referencing this one short story by edgar allen poe which is pretty cool, by the way.

Monsters have no heartbeat: they’re made of ash, and fear, and hate, and madness, and they’re anything but filled with life. Ghosts have no heartbeat, for their hearts have stilled long ago. Nico isn’t even sure if his own heart beats, sometimes. But Jason’s heart is beating, steady and clear. And Nico’s used to his own heartbeat (which has grown soft, silent almost, to match the ghosts and spirits of the Underworld) and his heartbeat alone, and Jason’s heartbeat is very, very loud.

Nico doesn’t like it. It brings back memories. It brings back people. People with strong hearts and unwavering heartbeats just like Jason. People like Bianca, people like Percy Jackson, people like Annabeth Chase. (People like him, even, once upon a time.)

Nico’s tried so hard to block everything from his mind, but with Jason by his side, and the steady _thump, thump, thump_ of his heart ringing in his ears, Nico can’t help but remember. And he’d so much rather forget. Maybe it’s Tartarus trying to drive him mad, but Nico could swear that with every step they take, Jason’s heartbeat grows louder, and Nico almost wants to whirl around and stop his heart from beating.

His blood runs cold as soon as the thought enters his mind. Tartarus is working its magic already (quicker this time, because he’s not alone, he’s sure of it) and he doesn’t know what Tartarus will make them do.

“Nico?”

Nico realises he’s stopped walking, and he has to take a deep breath before he can even remember _how to_.

“Nico? You okay?”

Jason’s concerned voice mixes with the constant beat of his heart that’s just _so loud_ Nico, and Nico sinks to the ground, hands cupped over his ears.

 _Thump_. (Monsters’ heart don’t beat.)

 _Thump._ (His mother’s heart doesn’t beat.)

 _Thump._ (Bianca’s heart doesn’t beat.)

 _Thump_. (Why won’t his heart _stop beating_?)

“Nico!”

Jason’s hand moves to wrap around Nico and Nico jumps back, scrabbling against dusty floor. “Don’t touch me!”

Jason’s hand shirks back, and Nico suddenly feels bad for the look of hurt that flits across Jason’s face. He knots his fingers in his hair, and shakes his head, the words spilling from his mouth slow and weak. “I don’t know what I would do to you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

He stands up slowly, but the voice in his head is growing louder. “Tartarus. Can you hear it?”

“Hear what?”

“It’s trying to drive us mad. Just like it does to all its prisoners.” Nico’s voice drops to a horrified whisper. “It wants me to stop your heart from beating.”

Jason looks frightened for a moment, but the moment passes, as moments do. He walks forward despite Nico’s warning looks, and grabs Nico’s left hand, and pulls him forwards, wrapping his arms around him so that Nico’s ear is pressed to his chest.

“Listen,” Jason says slowly. “Listen. It’s still beating. You’re not going to do anything. I… I trust you.” And as the words leave his lips, Jason realises they’re true.

Nico listens to the beat of Jason’s heart. It is different this time. It’s next to him, not in his mind. It’s slow and fluttery and solid, whereas Tartarus had warped it to echo and beat loud as drums. It reminds him of Bianca, holding him to her chest, comforting him after he’d had a nightmare, once upon a time. It reminds him of his mother, with him sitting in her lap as she read him a children’s folktale. It reminds him of something warm and comforting — something almost like home (though he thinks he can’t really remember what home feels like anyways.)

Nico’s breathing slows, and he can feel his heart beat, almost in time with Jason’s, louder than it’d been in a long time. He taps Jason’s arm and shoves away from him gently, looking everywhere but his blue, blue eyes. He clears his throat, before turning around once more.

“Thanks,” he mumbles over one shoulder, and he’s almost startled by the tremor lacing his voice.

Nico doesn’t have to turn his head to see that Jason’s smiling. He can hear it in his words: “No problem.”

Nico falls into step with Jason, and they’re walking side by side.

 

* * *

 

Nico wonders if they’ll bump into anyone. Not monsters, but actual people, who were living, once, and had been sentenced to an eternity of pain. He thinks of Tantalus (ninety attack points, plus forty when up against any major or minor god on account of his hatred to them for his punishment); he thinks of King Sisyphus (three hundred attack points, brute strength acquired from his punishment of rolling a boulder up a hill for all eternity, minus six when overcome with frustration); he thought of the daughters of Danaus, the Danaides, who were sentenced to collecting water for a tub with sieves (thirty attack points, healing powers).

Nico almost smiles when the figures run through his head. It was surprising that he’d remembered the details of something as small as a children’s game.

“What are you thinking about?”

Nico’s startled out of his thoughts by the son of Zeus — Jupiter — and he scowls. “Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“Can’t be too stupid if it gets you smiling,” Jason offers with a smile of his own.

And maybe it’s Tartarus or maybe he’s actually getting used to Jason Grace, but Nico doesn’t turn his back and let silence run through the air again; Nico actually shrugs, and Nico actually answers. “When I was younger,” Nico began, pausing to cough. “When I was younger…”

He falters again, and Jason wonders how long it’s been since somebody’s asked about the son of Hades.

“When I was younger, I played this really stupid card game, Mythomagic.” Nico looks over at Jason as if expecting him to laugh, but Jason only smiles and jerks his head slightly to tell him to go on, so Nico continues, slowly and carefully. “I, uh, when my sist — when Bianca died, I, um, I stopped because… Because, I don’t know, I thought it was childish or whatever, and it is.”

“So why were you smiling just now?” Jason asks, taking careful note of how Nico’s voice is rich with pain at the mention of Bianca.

“I wasn’t,” Nico answers snappishly, eyes darting to Jason afterwards to scan his expression. Nico’s thumbs flick at the hilt of his sword. “I was just thinking about Tartarus, and some of the cards. They were mostly useless, but they were interesting, I guess.”

“So did you play with Bianca?”

Nico’s shoulders tighten at the mention of her, and he thinks of all the times Bianca used to make fun of him jokingly about the game. All the times she would muss his hair, and pluck the cards from his fingers when he was walking. All the times she would pull the hard figurines out from between the sheets and scold him softly before placing them carefully on bedside tables.

Nico frowns. “It’s none of your business, Grace,” he answers, and he sees Jason’s expression dim, and he almost takes his words back.

But he doesn’t. And he’s not sure why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am terribly sorry for the short length of chapters! please comment if you would like them to be longer and i appreciate all feedback! xx

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Jasico fic and I'm honestly so worried about posting but I hope you enjoy!


End file.
